


Tahitian Thoughts

by spikesgirl58



Series: Hot Tropical Nights [3]
Category: Man from Uncle - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 10:25:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where does one go on vacation when you live and work in Tahitan paradise?  You go sailing!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tahitian Thoughts

The room was completely dark as Napoleon opened his eyes and he smiled.  This was the moment he waited for every day.  The night was silent with the exception of the muffled rumble of the surf.  Not even the birds were awake yet.  It was as if the day was an undiscovered jewel, just waiting for him to discover and claim it as his own.

This was the time in which Napoleon would reflect upon his day ahead and how blissfully peaceful it was.  He would doze now for another hour, just listening as the world around him woke.  He would slip out of the bed he shared with his lover and walk quietly to the kitchen to start water boiling.

While that was happening, he would measure coffee into a French press and put two cups on a tray, along with some sugar and cream.  Once the water was ready, he’d pour it into the press and carried the tray into their bedroom.  At the first sniff of coffee, Illya would be awake and be ready for a cup.  Thusly, their day would begin.

Napoleon reached out and his hand came in contact with Illya’s hair.  Napoleon didn’t have to see it to imagine it spread out on the pillow, he could feel the strands falling through his fingers.

“Something wrong?” Illya’s question was groggy.

“Just the contrary, everything is so right.  Go back to sleep.”  Napoleon caressed Illya’s head and sighed happily when Illya’s arm snaked around his waist and pulled him close.

“Do you know what the penalty is for waking me up early?” Illya growled in Napoleon’s ear.

“What?”  Napoleon was breathless with anticipation.

“Mmm, you must acquiesce to me.”  Illya’s hand drifted down across Napoleon’s stomach to toy with his pubic hair, carefully avoiding his penis.

“Sounds terrible.”  Napoleon shifted to spread his legs apart.

“Oh, it can be… if he is hesitant about it.”  Illya adjusted his position and Napoleon moaned as Illya’s hand began to stoke up and down Napoleon’s penis.  “Are you going to resist?”

“No.”  Illya’s penis found its way into Illya’s hand and the friction of it against Napoleon’s made him arch back.

“Not even a little.”

“Please…”

“Tell me what you want.”  Illya’s hand was moving faster and he was alternately kissing and nipping Napoleon’s neck.

“Make me come now.”  Illya’s hand picked up in pace and Napoleon added his hand to the mix as well.  Suddenly, with a sharp intake of breath, Napoleon felt the onrush of his climax.  His penis throbbed with effort and it grew slick as first he, then Illya, ejaculated.

For a long moment, neither of them moved except to pant.

“Now, let me sleep, heathen,” Illya muttered.

Napoleon opened his mouth but yawned instead.  That was when he realized, at some point in their love making, it had started raining out.  The drum on the tin roof played a lullaby to him and, without meaning to, he fell back asleep.

 

When Napoleon woke next, daylight was creeping around the edges of the bamboo window shades.  Still, he had no desire to climb out of bed.  Illya was over on the far edge, sprawled, his skin shiny with sweat.

Napoleon pulled up the mosquito netting and climbed from the bed.  Scratching his stomach, he headed first to the bathroom to have a fast wash up.  He’d shower and shave after breakfast. 

He went so far as to tug on a pair of shorts and walked into the kitchen, still yawning and stretching.  He had no idea why he was so tired this morning.  Some coffee would fix that.

As the water was coming to a boil, he walked to the desk and shuffled through the chapter he’d written the day before.  He was very nearly done with this book and Napoleon was glad.  He was always excited to start a new project but some outstayed their welcome, dragging their feet when they should have been finished and packed off. 

He’d been on Rangi for nearly a year now.  In that time he’d finished two books.  Perhaps it was time for him to take a break.

Carrying the coffee into the bedroom, he wasn’t surprised to see Illya tying up the mosquito netting.  Seeing Napoleon, he grinned and claimed a kiss, then a cup of coffee.

“Illya, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”  He sipped and sighed happily.  “You make great coffee.  Did I ever tell you that?”

“Practically every morning.”  Napoleon sat down on the bed beside him. “Where do you go to vacation?”

“Vacation from what?  I live in Tahiti.”  He laughed and then sobered.  “Are you okay?”

“I just…”  He sighed.  “I don’t know.  I’m stuck in a rut or something.  I need to get away.”

Instantly, Illya’s coffee cup was set aside and Illya was in front of him, a frown on his face.  “What can I do?  What have I done?  I’ll make it up to you, Napoleon, I swear I will.”

“What?”  Napoleon looked around, confused.

“You just said you’re leaving me.”

“Never!   I just need a vacation or something to get the creative juices flowing again.  How could I leave you?  Or Rangi?  I love it here.”

Illya took a deep breath.  “Sorry.  I… the last person I was with, that’s what he said and in the middle of the night, he took off… with most of my life’s savings at the same time.   I just…“

Napoleon set his cup down and took Illya in his arms.  It felt odd to be the secure one.  Usually it was Napoleon who was gun shy and tentative.  Illya was always confident, except this time Napoleon could feel his lover trembling.

“Come with me.” Napoleon whispered into Illya’s ear and then kissed his temple.  “Come with me.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere .”  Napoleon brushed Illya’s hair back from his face.  “Haven’t you ever been on vacation before?”

“Not really.  I mean, I went to France for a few years, but that wasn’t for pleasure.  The only other time I left Tahiti was to fly to New York.  For you.”

“Then we need to fix that.  How long will it take you to arrange for a few days off?”

“Um, a couple of days, I think.  I need to find Papa first.  God only knows where he will be.”

“Your mother will know.  Where should we go?”

“The Sauvage?”

“Illya, if we do that, you’ll end up spending the days clearing brush and cutting down coconut trees.”  He nuzzled Illya’s ear again.  “I want to go some place where we can sleep all day and make love all night.”

“Mmm, I think I have an idea.”

Napoleon glanced down at that moment and chuckled.  “I see your idea.”

“Well, one of them.”

They were both a bit later than usual at getting out of the house.

                                                                                ****

Napoleon loaded the last box into their rusty car and carefully shut the lid.  He was afraid that if he slammed it, the car might just crumple into a pile of metal debris.  Illya had been cryptic about things, even more so than usual

“So, where are we going?”

“Into Tiputa village.”  Illya walked out of the house and shut the door.  He locked it, although he wasn’t worried.  No one in Avatoru would bother his place.  Illya paused beside Napoleon.  “Do you have everything?”

“I do now.”  Napoleon squeezed Illya’s hand and the Russian grinned.

“I just hope you know what you are in for.  Holed up with me for a week.”

“I’m stronger than I look.  I’ll manage.”  They got into the car and Illya turned the key.  The motor ground to a start and they were off, driving leisurely down the narrow road that ran the length of the island.  Napoleon caught his breath when they passed the airport and then Kia Ora.  Now he was totally perplexed. 

They got to the village and slowed.  Roosters, goats, dogs and children scurried back and forth across the road without care.  Illya parked and cut the motor.

“You’re joking,” Napoleon said, not moving.

“What do you mean?”

“Tiputa?  We’re vacationing in Tiputa?”

“No, we’re not vacationing in Tiputa… blockhead.”  Illya grinned to take the sting out of the word.  This is the closest I can get to the boat dock.  Come on.”

Napoleon followed him out of the car and out onto the pier.  In the distance were several boats anchored.  Illya pointed to a boat, its hull blistering white in the sun.  “That is where we are vacationing.  There and wherever the tide takes us.  Let’s load up.”

                                                                                ****

Napoleon wandered below the deck and then called back over his shoulder.    “And you lived here?  For how long?”

“A few months every year.  I told you I was born at sea.   I need to reconnect with it.  This was really the first year I haven’t spent any time on it.  Until now.”  Illya finished stowing the fishing equipment in a watertight compartment and brushed off his hands.  “What do you think of her?”  He caressed the polished teak of the rail.

“What her name again?”

“ _Marae Pape_  It means water temple.”  Illya came halfway down the steps and stopped level with Napoleon.  He caught Napoleon’s face between his hands and lovingly kissed the dark-haired man.  “Tonight, we will make love under the stars and you will know what it’s like to be worshipped.”

“I have to wait until tonight?”  Napoleon’s tongue flicked out to touch Illya’s.

“Well, perhaps it will be an early evening.”  Illya kissed him more soundly.  “But for now, let’s get out of the harbor and find a cove of our own.”

Napoleon touched foreheads with him and sighed.  “You’re a harsh taskmaster, Captain Bligh.”

“Just remember that, Mr. Christian, and perhaps later I will let you play with my breadfruit tree.”

Napoleon laughed, “Oh, Illya, you can make anything sound dirty.”

“Years and years of careful cultivation, my friend.  Now come.  I will teach you how to pilot the boat.”  Illya turned and Napoleon took the opportunity to caress Illya’s ass by sliding his hand up through Illya’s loose shorts.  “No distracting the captain, please.”  Illya slipped away, then held out of hand.  “Shall we?”

                                                                                                ****

Napoleon lay on a large beach towel spread out the aft deck staring up at the, by now, familiar stars.  “You know, when I lived in New York, I could never really see the stars.  Illya handed him a bottle of Hirano beer and settled beside him. 

“That sounds sad.”  Illya touched his bottle to Napoleon’s and then drained half.  He burped and sighed.  “Life doesn’t get much better than this.”

For a moment, it was just the lapping of the waves against the hull of the ship, then Napoleon rolled to his side.  “I’m sorry I scared you the other day.   I would never do anything to hurt you, Illya.”

“I know… it’s just…”  Illya trailed off and emptied his bottle.

“It’s just what?”

“Look at us.  Here you are a world famous writer.  You can go and do anything you want.  What can I offer you, some cut-rate tour of the islands or a half baked history of the place?  Compared to you, I’m nothing.”

“You’re wrong, Illya.  You are so special.   You are the heart and soul of your people.  I look at you and I see your love of the islands and feel its breath on my face.  To know Tahiti, I’ve only had to know you.”

“But how could you compare this to New York?  There you have shows and restaurants and nightclubs.  You have so much.  Here, the best entertainment we can cough up most nights on Rangi is waiting to see if Anapa gets into a fight with Hoani or Oriata first.”

“Illya, if I had wanted any of that glitz, I would have stayed in New York.  I came back to Tahiti because I existed in New York.  In Tahiti, I live.”

“You really have a gift of gab, you know that?”  Illya reached to touch Napoleon’s face.  “We have nothing in common. Eventually you will grow bored here.  I’ve seen it happen before.”

“I guess we will deal with that when it happens.  Until then, you are stuck with me.”  Napoleon kissed Illya’s palm and then took the hand in his.  He leaned in to kiss Illya, long and slow.

For a seemingly long time, that’s all they did, then Napoleon got to his feet and held out a hand.

Together they moved beneath deck away from the prying eyes of the stars and the smile of the moon, shedding the few clothes they were wearing along the way.  It was dark inside, but Napoleon didn’t care.  He let his hands speak of his love, caressing Illya’s body in the most intimate way he knew.

Somehow, he found the lube and fumbled the cap off.  Napoleon felt Illya’s breath catch as he inserted first one finger and then two into Illya.  The combined sweat of their bodies made them slick and Napoleon licked Illya’s skin, sucking and biting every time he found Illya’s prostate.

He continued until he thought his own penis would explode, then he withdrew his fingers, smiling at the whimper of protest.  A second later, that void was filled and Napoleon moaned as hot flesh enveloped his penis, seemingly sucking it in.

Illya rocked back, meeting him and bare flesh snapped as their bodies collided mid thrust. Napoleon withdrew up to his tip and then plunged in again.  Then again, each time the stroke becoming faster and harder until the entire world narrowed.  His fingers dug into Illya’s thighs as Napoleon struggled for control.

Then, a familiar tightening in his balls and the painful pleasure of climax made him slam one last time into Illya’s ass and hold him firm until every last bit of semen had escaped.

Napoleon released his grip on Illya’s, but his lover didn’t collapse.  Just the opposite and Napoleon realized his job was but half finished.

He withdrew and found the lube, thrusting it into Illya’s hand.  Illya needed no encouragement and Napoleon positioned himself, knowing that foreplay would not be at the top of Illya’s list.  Still, Illya was careful to prepare Napoleon.

“Faster,” Napoleon murmured into the sheets.

“Not on your life.  I have a lot of plans for that ass of yours.  I’m not trashing the playground on the first day.”

Whatever comeback Napoleon had, it caught in his throat as Illya pressed into him.  He moaned and reached for his once again hard dick, matching his manipulations to Illya’s rhythm.  Gritting his teeth, he held out for as long as he could and congratulated himself that he was but a fraction in front Illya’s climax.

“Now that’s what I mean about a vacation.”  Illya didn’t immediately withdraw from Napoleon’s body.  He lingered, resting his head against Napoleon’s back.

“Hmm, I’m beginning to get your drift.”

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, not even aware that he had until his bladder woke him.  Napoleon slipped from the berth and made his way slowly to the head.  It was a little cramped, but he wasn’t there to dance.

He cleaned up a bit after using the toilet and then, instead of heading back to bed, he went back out onto the desk.  The moon had risen and the ocean was speckled with thousands of glittering ripples, each one in a synchronized waltz with its mate.

He leaned on the rail and just watched.  Something touched his arm and Illya was there, holding out a cup of coffee

“This is why I will never leave either you or Tahiti, Illya.  How could I live a life without this?” He nodded to the stars.  “Those are brighter than any lights on Broadway.  Napoleon could hear water crashing against the breakers, but in this cove, the water was peaceful.  The sound of the surf more beautiful than any music a nightclub could produce.”  He paused to sip his coffee.  “This is better than any of the fine wine the city could offer.  All because you are here to share it with me.”

Illya smilled and dropped his head forward.  “You really do have a way with words.”

“It’s my only gift.”

“Not if you saw yourself through my eyes.”

 “Where are we?”  Napoleon abruptly changed topics

“Between Makemo , which is about 32 kilometers that way and Nihiru, which is about 27 kilometers that direction.  We’re just off a little atoll called Taenga.”

“Does anyone live here?”

“Little under a hundred, mostly Mormons, live on the other side of the island.  A lot of people avoid the island because you need to know what you are doing to get through the channel leading into this lagoon.  I trashed a couple of boats learning.  However, I think it is worth the effort.”

“It is so beautiful.”

Illya turned and looked directly into Napoleon’s eyes.  “How can you tell?  You’re looking at me.”

“Exactly.”  Napoleon drained his cup.  “Back to bed?  Of all the incredible places I’ve been, it’s the best.”

Illya shook his head and chuckled.  “What am I going to do with you, Solo?”

“Love me?”

“That works.”

                                                                                ****

The week passed slowly.  During the day, they sailed from one small island to another, moving ever closer to Tahiti.  Sometimes they would anchor and go ashore, striking up conversations with the locals.  Napoleon took notes and sketched extensively. 

Other times they would anchor just offshore and try their luck at fishing.  Dinner had been an eclectic collection of whatever seafood they caught.   Once, Illya went ashore to coconuts and the crabs that fed on them.  The succulent flesh was a heavenly mix of crab and coconut.  They ate, they drank, they made love, and Napoleon never wanted the week to end.

“Are you sure we have to head back?”

“If we did this all the time, it wouldn’t be special.”  Illya’s attention was fixed upon the horizon.  He reached over and clicked on the radio.  There was a blast of static and Napoleon wandered away, staring out at the sea, its surface a combination of blues and greens.  The sky was clear and brilliant blue.

“Napoleon!”

“Yes, Illya?”  He trotted back to the wheelhouse.

“We need to head in.  There’s a big storm coming our way and the best spot would be to ride it out will be on shore. 

“Where are we?”

“Not far from Moorea.  I’m going to head to Vaiare to try and put the island between us and the storm.”

“Can we make it?”

“Guess we’ll find out.  Up anchor and we’ll make a run for it.”

Napoleon nodded and went around to the back of the craft.  He hit the winch for the anchor and there was an odd grind.  Instantly he flipped it off.  “Illya, I think we have a problem.”

“Figures.”  Illya joined him.  “What’s wrong?”

Napoleon turned the winch back on.  “That,” he shouted over the noise.

“We’re caught on something.”  After a moment, Illya pointed.  “Go pull the bow anchor and we’ll see if that gives us any wiggle room.”

Napoleon moved forward, away that the boat was beginning to pitch a bit more.  The distant horizon was dark gray now.  Quickly he raised the anchor and waved back.  “Try it now.”

Illya turned the winch back on and for a moment there was movement.  “It’s not working,” he yelled back.  Then there was a sharp crack and Napoleon watched, horrified, as end of the cord fly free, catching and tossing Illya back against the bulkhead.  The ship jerked and the boom swung free catching Illya and knocking him down again.

Napoleon ran to grab the outhaul, tying it down with a fast slip knot.   That accomplished he staggered his way to Illya, who was curled up on the deck in a fetal position.

“Illya!”

“Get us to shore, Napoleon!”  Illya barked before Napoleon could touch him.

“How?”

“Start the engines and follow the course I set.”

“But you’re hurt.”

“If you aren’t fast about it, we could both be dead.  Go.  I’m fine.”  Illya’s breath was coming in short pants and gasps.  “Help me to the wheelhouse and I’ll do what I can to help.”

Napoleon knew that was far from the truth, but the reality was that there was very little he could do to help his lover out here.  Their best bet was on Moorea and Napoleon was the only one who could get them there.

                                                                                ****

He remembered very little of the trip, except the waves, the wind, and the feel of stinging rain on his face.  Through some miracle, he managed to get to port and tied up without destroying the boat, although there were a few gashes marring its otherwise pristine white hull.

Napoleon sat quietly in the waiting room.  The rain was pelting down outside, making the room even more dark and gloomy than it was normally. 

“Oh, my god, Napoleon!”  Klementina, Illya’s mother, came into the small room and went straight to Napoleon hugging him tightly.   Viktor was close behind her and joined her in the embrace.  “How is he?”

“I don’t know.”  Napoleon wiggled out of the group hug.  He still wasn’t used to the Kuryakin family’s approach to affection.  “They took him from me and stuck me in here.  I’m waiting for the doctor, but he said he’d only talk to family.”  He sank back into the hard chair where he’d been camped for the last two hours.

“But **you** are family.”  Klementina sat beside him and took his hand

“Not in the eyes of the law.”

Viktor patted Napoleon’s shoulder.  “I will go.”  The man slipped quickly from the room.

“Thank God he wasn’t out there alone.”   Klementina brushed the rain from her hair.  “I always worry when he is out there by himself.  Do you know what happened?”

“The anchor got caught in something and the winch cable snapped.  It flew back and the cable caught him.  The boat rocked and the mainsail got loose and hit him.”

Viktor walked back into the room, a scowl on his face.  “These nurses, they aren’t very helpful.  They are not like Papeete nurses.”

“I’m sure they are…” Klementina broke off as a man in surgical garb approached.

“Mr. and Mrs. Kuryakin?”

Viktor nodded as Napoleon helped Klementina to her feet.

“How is he, Doctor?”

“You can thank his friend there for acting promptly and getting him to shore. He has some broken ribs, a bruised spleen, a broken left wrist and a cracked right ulna.  There will be some bruising and he’s going to be sore for a long time, but he should be fine.”

“When can we take him home?”

“We’d like to keep him overnight for observation, but I would advise no travel for at least a week.  If you’d like, I could recommend a couple of places.    The Sofitel La Ora is a lovely place and not as expensive as some of the others.”

“That does my heart good,” Viktor said. 

“You know of it?”

“I own it.”

A nurse approached.  “Doctor, Mr. Kuryakin is awake, but I think he may have suffered some head trauma.  He keeps asking for Napoleon.”

Napoleon raised his hand.  “That’s me.”

“Wait… not THE Napoleon Solo.”

“Yes.  Can we see him, please?”

“He’s still pretty groggy.  One at a time would be best.”  He led them to a partially closed door and pushed in open.

Napoleon slowly approached the bed, inwardly prepared for a mass of tube and machines, just like the sort that surrounded his mother before she passed.  However, with the exception of an IV pump and a heart monitor, there was nothing hooked up to Illya.

“Hey,” Illya murmured.  “Sorry about the mess.”

“What mess?  What until you see what I did to the boat.”

“What?”  Illya’s voice grew stronger and Napoleon grinned.

“You’re okay.”  Napoleon reached for a cup of water and held it for Illya while he sucked on a straw.  “It’s down at the marina, safe and sound.  I scraped some of the paint off the hull, but it’s still water tight.”

“Thanks.”  Illya tried to move his arm and winced.  “Ouch.”

“You just stay still.  Your parents are here and we are going to head over to the Sofitel.”

“When can I get out?”

“A couple of days… if you behave yourself.”

“Fat chance. I’ve never behaved myself in my life.”  Illya grew quiet and Napoleon wondered if the man had slipped back into sleep.  Then, softly, Illya murmured, “I would have died out there.  You saved my life.”

Napoleon smiled and kissed Illya’s forehead.  “Then we are even for you most certainly saved mine.”

Outside, the morning woke and shook off the night’s rain.  It stretched its light to the sky and gave thanks for another day.  Inside, Napoleon’s heart did the same.

 


End file.
